Author's Note:
Okay, so…I started writing this fic about halfway through my last
one. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. Now I'm not so sure.
But I thought I would upload it anyway, to see if anyone would be
interested in it. I think it might end up being a little too
confusing, and maybe a little too weird, and I'll probably end up being
too lazy to continue with it - which is a shame, because I already have
so much of the plot planned out. I know the summary really sucks, but
for right now, I cannot come up with one that doesn't just give the
whole plot away. So hopefully, you'll bear with me.

Just
to let everyone know, this will be D/Hr...kinda. You'll see what I
mean. And the Draco in this story won't be too much of a softie, for
anyone who is worried. :P

But anyway, please tell me what you think. Is it good? Bad? So-so? Really stupid? Really, really stupid? You can be honest. :D

Disclaimer: I do
not own Harry Potter, and I never will.

"It's funny," she
said, smiling at nothing in particular.

"What's funny?"
he asked. He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind
her ear. He only did this so that he would have an excuse to brush up
against the soft, smooth skin of her face as he pulled his hand away.
It didn't matter that the amount of contact was miniscule; he could
still feel electricity running through his veins whenever he touched
her.

She snuggled closer to
him, leaning her head on his shoulder. She grabbed his hand; when she
did so, that electricity he had felt a moment ago multiplied itself
by a thousand. It was almost too much for him to handle, but somehow
he managed to keep his cool. Somehow, he managed not to throw the
girl beside him onto the ground and do things to her that would make
even him blush.

"Life is
funny," she finally answered.

He arched his eyebrow
at her. "Is that so? And just how is life funny?"

"Well," she said, a
devious grin forming on her face. "Take our lives, for
instance. You and I come from completely different worlds. Who would
have ever thought that we would be here right now, having this
conversation?"

He chuckled. "This
isn't so far-fetched, you know. Why wouldn't we be having
this conversation right now? Or any other conversation for
that matter? We may have come from different worlds, but we
both live in this one right now. That is all that matters."

"I suppose," she
said. She smiled warmly at him. For a moment, they remained staring
into each other's eyes. And then, as always, she said sadly, "I
have to go."

His face fell at her
words. "No," he said firmly. "You don't have to. Not this
time."

She nodded sadly. "Yes,
this time. Every time."

"But you just got
here," he protested. "But we just -"

"Shh," she said,
silencing him with one single finger over his lips. "You have to
let me go."

"No I don't," he
said simply. "I can't."

"You can, you
just choose not to," she said, folding her arms across her chest.
"You are so stubborn. You always were."

"I'm
stubborn?" he cried. "Well what about you? You are the one
who keeps leaving and refuses to stay! It's not fair!"

"That's another
funny thing about life," she mumbled. "It's never fair. Even
when you think it ought to be, it slaps you in the face and reminds
you that you have absolutely no control over anything that happens."

He frowned at her.
"That's depressing."

"It really is," she
agreed. Slowly, a smile began to return to her lips. She took her
hand and placed it on the side of his face. He closed his eyes and
sighed deeply. Her touch had magical powers – it was always able to
lull him into a false sense of security.

While the touch of her
hand soothed him, the feel of her lips against his drove him
absolutely wild. She knew this, of course, that's why she was
kissing him now. That's why she always kissed him at this
very moment – she needed to distract him from the fact that in a
moment, she would be gone. Again.

He clung to her
tightly, with more strength than usual. He couldn't bear to lose
her again. So he kissed her with all of his might, and pulled her so
closely to him that it seemed impossible that they were actually two
separate bodies.

When the kiss ended and
she backed away, he kept his eyes shut. He didn't want to open
them. He knew what he would see if he did.

But as always, there
was something inside of him that was forcing him to look. As always,
his eyes flew open to view the horror that stood before him.

As he stood helplessly
and watched, a long, deep gash suddenly formed on her neck, and now
the girl he loved was dying. He didn't cry out or try to save her;
not because he couldn't, or because he didn't want to, but
because he knew there would be no point. Nothing could save her now.

She stared at him in
shock. He wasn't really sure why; she must have known this was
coming. It always came. As usual, she touched the wound delicately, and then
held her hand out in front of her face. She stared indifferently at
the blood that now stained her fingers. Her gaze shifted over to his.
"I didn't feel a thing," she assured him; her voice filled with
such sadness that it broke his heart into a million different pieces.

And then, she was gone.

Draco Malfoy woke with
a start. He gasped for breath as his eyes searched his room blindly.
He was in bed, and it appeared as though he had just woken from a bad
dream - the same one he'd been having for the last two months. He
waited until his racing pulse had returned to normal before getting
up; he suddenly wasn't so tired anymore.

He proceeded to follow
through with the same old routine: every time he had this dream, he
would wake up, get out of bed, grab his wand, mumble "Lumos" and
exit to the common room. From there, he would walk over to the Head
Girl's room and pause at the door, listening. Of course, he would
never hear anything. Sometimes, he would stop at the door, then leave
after a minute of softly banging his head up against it. But this
time, he placed his hand on the knob and turned it.

Her room looked the
exact same way it had two months ago. Her bed was neatly made and
topped off with a couple of frilly pillows and a teddy bear. On her
nightstand were a few framed pictures of her and the other two
members of The Golden Trio. In each picture, they were smiling and
laughing, and occasionally she would roll her eyes at her redheaded
friend who was partial to making faces. Draco scowled down at the
picture and wondered if she ever glanced down at the picture herself
and noticed the way her scarfaced friend was looking at her – as if
she were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Well I'll be
damned, he thought bitterly. Potter probably did love her
after all. He grunted and placed the frame back onto the table.
He picked up another one, similar to the one he had just set down. So
many of the pictures scattered all over her room were of them;
only a few were of her and the Weaslette, or of her and some other
random Gryffindor classmate. He guessed the framed picture that sat
directly in the middle of them all was of her parents. He figured
this mainly because it was the only picture not moving. In other
words, it had been taken with a Muggle camera and developed the
traditional Muggle way. Draco sighed. She had so many pictures
scattered everywhere, of so many people who were near and dear to her
heart. It was no surprise to see that there was no picture of him
anywhere, but it still hurt nevertheless.

He sat down on her bed,
picked up the stupid teddy bear and scoffed. A grown girl with a
teddy bear. He would've loved to have known she'd had this; he
could have made fun of her for it. She had probably slept with it
every night, pretending it was Boy Wonder she was holding in her
arms. At this thought, Draco threw the teddy bear across the room as
hard as he could. It slammed up against her dresser; the force of it
knocking one of her precious framed pictures onto the floor,
shattering the glass. Feeling guilty about his sudden fit of anger,
he picked the picture up from the floor. Despite the fall, The Golden
Trio was still smiling and laughing and acting as though they did not
have a care in the world.

"Damn you, Granger,"
he spat. He could have sworn that when he spoke, the girl in the
picture looked directly at him. The greatest thing about pictures
being developed by magic was that the scene would continue to move
for eternity. So even if the girl in the picture was gone, you could
always remember the way she looked when she smiled and blinked and
gave an exasperated look. You could always remember the way she
looked when she was looking at you.

"Stupid mudblood,"
he said to the picture. "Stupid, bushy-headed, buck-toothed
bookworm." He let out a sound that was a mix between a sob and a
laugh as he gently placed the frame back where it belonged, muttering
a cleaning spell to get rid of the shards of glass. He picked up the
bear and held it out in front of him.

"So you're the
lucky git who got to spend every night in bed with her," he said,
chuckling. He sat back down on her bed, placing the bear in the exact
same spot it had been moments before. He was ashamed of himself. He
had come into her room in the middle of the night and practically
desecrated it. She would have greatly disapproved of his behavior.
She most likely would have scolded him for it, and then continued to
lecture him about respecting other people's things.

Damn, he missed her so
much.

The most wonderful
thing about having living quarters to himself was that he could sit
here, like he was now, and succumb to the emotions that racked his
entire body. He had been taught growing up to bottle up all of his
feelings and to never show the world his weaknesses. But alone in
Hermione Granger's bedroom, where everything reminded him of her,
those feelings were too strong to keep inside. He felt that if he
were to keep them hidden away, his heart would explode in his chest.

So he sat there and for the first time, he
cried.

Hours later he woke up
lying on her bed, her teddy bear in his arms. If only the
Slytherins could see him now – they'd probably sell this story to
the Daily Prophet. He could just picture the headline in his head:
DRACO MALFOY SLEEPS WITH STUFFIES – Slytherins everywhere
cringe. This thought gave him a slight chuckle – which was
quite welcome, given the night he'd had.

Glancing down at the
ray of sunlight that was peeking through the curtains and shining
across the bed, Draco groaned. It was morning already - meaning it was
time to start a brand new day…though today would be the same as it was
every day. Things still hadn't quite gotten back to normal yet,
despite the fact it had been two whole months. Potter and the two
Weasleys managed to drag themselves to classes everyday, though just
barely. And even a few of the Professors were still having a hard
time. They would be in the middle of a lesson, take one look at the
empty chair in the classroom, and they would just pause – trying so hard to
hide the pained expressions on their faces, so that the students
didn't know what they were thinking, or who they were thinking
about.

But Draco knew. And for
once in his life, he could relate to them all.

Meanwhile, Draco
himself had a hard time making it through the day. He rarely ever
paid attention in class, and his grades had started dropping
considerably – so much so, he was surprised they hadn't replaced
him as Head Boy yet. Actually, it wasn't as surprising as it should
have been. After all, they were already missing a Head Girl (in two
whole months, no one had even attempted to give any other
female student the title). Appointing a new student as Head Boy this
well into the year, after everything that had happened, would
probably not be advisable. Besides, there weren't too many other
students who were qualified for the position – except for, of
course, Harry Potter, who would most likely turn the offer down, for
obvious reasons.

So lucky Draco had
nothing to worry about. He could probably do anything short of
burning down the school, and he would not lose his Head Boy badge.
How wonderful for him. He'd get to stay in this luxury suite.
Alone. Without a Head Girl by his side.

Placing the teddy bear
back onto the bed, exactly where he'd found it, Draco mustered up
all the energy he could to leave the room and get ready to start the
day.

He left her room
without looking back and proceeded to get ready for classes. He still felt ashamed of the way he'd been
acting last night, and he wanted to try and forget about it for right
now. Like every other day for the past two months, he told himself
that today was going to be different. Today, he was going to put
everything behind him and move on. And like every other day, he knew
he was lying - because today was different. It had been exactly two months
ago today that his world had been torn apart and ripped to
shreds...exactly two months ago today that the only important thing
in his life had been violently taken away from him.

It had been exactly two
months ago today that Hermione Granger died.

A/N - Oh, but don't worry. Hermione will be in the story plenty. ;)

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.